


Paper Shield

by mdseiran



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blind Ignis Scientia, Canon Compliant, Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Ignis DLC, Gen, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25978717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdseiran/pseuds/mdseiran
Summary: He was never meant for a life without purpose, but that is the Empire's gift to him.As the days grows darker, Gladio must find a way to reconcile his past with his future and discover the raison d'être of a Shield without a King.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia
Comments: 14
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

The feelings coursing through him when he watches that bastard chancellor walk away from them without a scratch are intimately familiar. Helplessness greets him like an old friend, as if no time has passed since his ass got handed to him on a platter by Ravus, as if he hasn't faced his demons and self-doubt and come through it with a new scar to show for it. Noct is gone and Izunia is walking away from them without a care in the world.

A hand lands on his arm and stops him from moving forward. "You won't hurt him," Ignis says quietly. The confirmation of his uselessness tears a snarls from him and he pulls away harshly, causing Ignis to stumble and then reach for him again, more insistent this time. "Gladio, _think_. I can still access my weapons."

"So can I," Prompto murmurs from behind him, and he can hear the sound of a weapon appearing and disappearing again. His own greatsword is solid in his hand and when he closes his eyes he can feel the soft thrum of magic coursing through it.

He lets out a breath. "He's alive."

Ignis nods and lets go of his arm. "I think...he may not be on Eos any longer."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Expression unreadable, Ignis turns away from him and takes a step closer to the crystal. His eyes are obscured by his glasses but his jaw tenses, an inadvertent signal that Gladio has come to associate with "fuck this hurts" since Altissia. "It's only a theory. I'd rather not speculate any further until we've done some research."

Prompto's voice is hesitant when he asks, "Do we just...leave the crystal here?"

Calculating the odds is simple. They're in the middle of enemy territory with one man down and one still...adjusting. The Regalia is gone, there's no air support and the only member of their party who can wield magic may or may not be on Eos.

"We don't have a choice." The words taste bitter in his mouth, and he quickly turns on his heel and strides off, leaving Prompto to scramble behind him as he tries to guide Ignis without making him feel so damn useless. _The way you should've done,_ his mind whispers, _instead of telling him to stay behind._ The guilt causes his steps to slow, and when Prompto and Ignis draw even with him he places himself at Ignis's left without a word. 

They make their way slowly back to the elevator, careful not to make any noise. The keep is eerily silent around them, almost lifeless, or like a forest that is holding its breath because it knows something bad is coming. With the mood he's in Gladio almost hopes they'll run into more daemons. But nothing blocks their path and their exit from the keep is peaceful. Outside the sun is shining brightly to chase the nightmares away. Some of them at least.

"Guys, hold up a sec." Prompto lets go of Ignis and gingerly pets down his shirt, flinching as he does so, until he finds what he's looking for. The screen of his phone lights up, shining on his triumphant grin, and then he's typing furiously. "Prompto," Gladio growls, "is this really the time--"

"Yep, definitely no time like the present!" He sounds slightly manic, and Gladio is quickly revising their odds of surviving anything with only one fully fit team member left. "Okay, that should do it. Let's get to the Regalia."

"I'm afraid the Regalia didn't survive the trip here," Ignis says, but Prompto waves off his concerns and skips ahead.

"I know, I know, handling it. Come on guys."

Gladio places a hand beneath Ignis's elbow and steers him towards their friend. "We may as well get some supplies from the trunk before we set out." Ignis murmurs his agreement and they carefully make their way through the wreckage towards the Regalia's corpse. Prompto arrived ahead of them and is once more typing on his phone. Stifling a few choice curse words, Gladio parks Ignis by the hood and reaches inside the car to pop the trunk.

That catches Prompto's attention. "Oh you don't have to do that, our ride should be here any minute."

Gladio's bewildered "Ride?" is drowned out by the sound of a magitek engine. His first instinct is to warn Noct; the words get stuck in his throat and he chokes on them. His eyes seek out Ignis, who has taken up a defensive position behind the Regalia. Prompto on the other hand has moved towards an open area a short distance away and is frantically waving his arms. The aircraft comes to a stop above him and he skips out of the way to give it room to land. The brilliant yet shy smile he's sporting gives Gladio a pretty good idea who to expect, so he's not surprised when Aranea jumps out and walks up to them. Ignis relaxes beside him at the first click of heels on asphalt. "Well done, Prompto," he says. Prompto ducks his head but Gladio can see the pleased flush on his cheeks.

"You got yourselves in quite a mess this time," Aranea says. "I'll grab the cables so we can tow her inside."

Prompto offers to help her and Gladio decides to make himself useful by guiding Ignis inside the aircraft. By the time they're settled the Regalia has been carefully pulled inside. Prompto lands beside them with a puff of air and it isn't long before they feel the rumble of the engines.

"Aranea will take us all the way to Hammerhead. Hopefully Cindy can fix her up."

They fall silent and it's strained, awkward. Noct isn't a chatterbox like Prompto and he spent more time asleep than not, so why does it feel like they need him to keep the conversation going?

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask for your help once we arrive."

He glances at Ignis but his face gives nothing away. "What do you need, Iggy?"

His lips twitch slightly, the only sign of humor he'll allow. "Working eyes would be ideal, but since that's not possible I was hoping to borrow yours. I believe the Regalia was outfitted with a complete copy of Insomnia's data bank?"

Gladio forgot about that. "You think it's still intact after the crash?"

"She's stronger than that." There's fondness in his voice. "Even if the rest of her is beyond salvaging, I'm sure Cindy can get us access to the data."

"What are we looking for, exactly?"

"Anything related to the Crystal and how it works."

Prompto nods easily, but he's less familiar with Ignis and his evasive tactics. "You wanna be a bit more specific? That's a pretty broad topic."

"That's because I'm not exactly sure what we're looking for."

Again that hint of something in his voice, his posture, and maybe Gladio's senses have sharpened as well since they lost Iggy's eyes because everything is tingling and screaming _wrong wrong wrong_.

"Cut the crap." Ignis's head jerks sharply towards him. "Why do you think Noct isn't on Eos anymore?"

"Gladio..."

"I think this group has had enough of secrets."

That hits home. Ignis turns away from him, bites his lip. "I could sense him, before. But since Gralea it's like he's disappeared."

"You could sense him." Ignis nods. "Sense what, exactly? His magic?"

A heavy sigh, and then, "The ring."

There's a rushing in Gladio's ears, but he keeps his voice low and controlled when he asks, "Why can you feel the ring?"

A beat, another, and when the answer comes it's defiant. "Because I put it on."

* * *

The moment the doors to the aircraft open up Gladio is through them. He ignores Prompto calling after him, Cindy's welcoming then faltering smile, the fading sunset and sets off south. He doesn't bother with stealth, plowing over rocks and sand with enough noise to wake every daemon in the vicinity. It's not dark enough yet for that, but he does eventually encounter a starving pack of flexitusks and pulls out his sword with a grim smile.

It's easy, too easy to kill them all, and it does nothing to calm his rage. The group of reapertails he runs into are rewarded with punishing blows using his bare hands. They land a couple of stings against his arms and legs and one slash across his back that Gladio knows will probably scar, but he's finally starting to feel a little better. He sees Noct fighting next to him, counting his kills gleefully. If Noct gets a higher kill count Gladio will never live it down so he starts fighting with renewed vigour, shouting out his own count with every death blow. He ends up panting with his back on the floor and wondering how he got there. Ignis is staring down at him with disapproval painted all over his face, his eyes flashing with irritation as he calls Gladio an utter idiot for wandering around alone at night.

"It's not night-time yet," Gladio protests, but then he notices that the light on his jacket has switched on automatically. He turns back to Ignis but Ignis is gone, and Ignis wouldn't look at him anyway because he's blind, which is when Gladio realizes he's not entirely okay.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out. "Fuck."

Sitting up takes some doing. There's a remedy in his pocket because Noct always insists everyone carry at least one on them since he "can't be there to save your asses all the time". He takes it and follows it up with a potion for good measure. He glimpses the steady blue glow of a haven not far away and slowly starts to make his way there. Every creak makes him brace, but luck must be on his side because he reaches the haven without becoming daemon food. Once there he finally grabs his phone from his pocket and blinks up at the glaring screen.

112 new messages, about 100 of them from Prompto but the last one is a voice mail from Ignis. He presses play instead of calling for help.

 _"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept this from you, from any of you, but I hoped--"_ An explosive sigh, and he can imagine Ignis running his fingers through his hair, the way he usually does when he has reached his limits. _"Will you please come back and hear me out? I promise I'll explain everything. Just...stay safe, Gladio. Please."_

He's tempted to leave Ignis to stew in his worry for the rest of the night but recognizes it for the childish, petulant thought that it is. Instead he puts through a call to Aranea and asks her to pick him up.

She doesn't ask any questions after they take off but does give him a hard look. "This boyband really can't afford to lose another member, you know." It startles a laugh out of him and she smiles back. 

Ignis and Prompto are both waiting for him when he finally walks into Takka's diner. Prompto lets out a pained sound before Gladio can try to shush him, and he sees Ignis's posture change to one of alertness. 

"Dude, are you okay? You have like, tears all over your clothes, and-- is that _blood_?!"

He thinks of brushing it off and then thinks of the accusations he lobbed at Ignis and mutters a curse. "I got into a few fights," he grumbles. "I took some potions but my back might need looking at."

Prompto is by his side immediately, helping him take off his jacket and shirt and chattering nervously all the while about how worried they were and how Gladio shouldn't have gone off on his own, they're a team right, they're supposed to stick together no matter what. Gladio listens to him with half an ear but mostly watches Ignis who has relaxed back against the couch, his head lowered slightly. His point clearly hit home.

Ignis waits until Prompto declares he's done to speak. "I want to apologize for not sharing this information with you earlier. I don't wish to make excuses but I hope once you've heard everything you'll understand."

The defeated tone makes something in Gladio's chest ache but he ruthlessly ignores it. "Let's start with where Noct is and take it from there."

"As to where, I don't have an answer to that yet. But I believe it has something to do with Bahamut."

Prompto gasps. "The Draconian? But he hasn't been seen since the War of the Astrals."

"Nevertheless, I believe he is involved."

Gladio frowns at him. "What makes you think that?"

"I had a vision in Altissia."

"A vision." Ignis nods. "And was this before or after you put on the fucking ring?"

There's a small flinch and Gladio takes a deep breath to try and calm himself down. "Maybe you should start at the beginning." 

Ignis starts off slowly but once he gets going it pours out of him, like puss out of a long infected wound. His voice grows more agitated the longer he talks, ebbing and flowing with all the anger and despair he's been suppressing for the past few weeks. He leaves nothing unsaid--not his fear of being left behind and being unable to help Noct, being rejected by the group as unfit; not his rage towards the Astrals, the King, the Oracle and everyone else who knew of Noct's fate and did nothing to try and stop it, just accepted it as fate and let it be; not even the pain of putting on the ring or of watching Noct on the throne, run through with--

His voice breaks then and he buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. Prompto is openly crying, and Gladio...

He remembers his father during training, always stern and harsh, urging him to get up, try again, you must be stronger than this if you're to protect your king.

But he probably knew all along that there'd be no protecting Noct. Not when it mattered.

Prompto is the one who finally breaks the silence. "You said you could feel Noct...before?"

"I think the ring connected us somehow." Ignis fingers brush over the scars on his face. "I would feel it here. Sometimes a throb, sometimes worse, depending on what Noct was doing, but always something as long as he wore the ring. It helped us find him in Zegnautus Keep. But the pain is muted now, as if a barrier has been erected between us."

"And you think that means he's been taken somewhere off Eos? But where?"

"My guess would be wherever Bahamut is."

Prompto bites his lower lip. "And you think we can find this place? How would we even get there?"

"I don't know, but I have to try."

His expression is grim. Gladio pushes himself to his feet, waving off Prompto's concern as he shuffles his way over to the man he's long considered his partner when it comes to protecting their king. He hesitates a moment before placing a hand firmly on Ignis's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "I think you mean _we_ have to try. You're no longer allowed to use 'I'."

Ignis's expression goes suddenly blank. "I think the ring has already taken care of that for you."

There is silence for a moment. Prompto gets it the same time he does; there's a pained noise from behind him and Gladio's heart thuds painfully in his chest. "Shit, Ignis, I'm so sorry," he stammers, "I didn't mean it like that, I was just trying to--"

The laughter bursts out of Ignis suddenly and Gladio's rambling dies off. His head is tilted forwards and one arm folds around to cradle his stomach. Gladio sends a bewildered look at Prompto but sees just as much confusion there. Their silence must indicate something to Ignis because his laughter grows, if possible, even louder, and Gladio folds his arms and decides to wait it out.

"Ah, I sorely needed that," Ignis finally says, wiping away the tears from the corners of his eyes. "I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard."

"So glad to be a source of fucking amusement to you," Gladio responds dryly, but he can't really be mad, not when Ignis looks this cheerful, not when he's back to making atrocious puns. 

"Soooo, are we all good then? Because I don't know about you guys but I'm starving."

"In that case, orange you glad we're already in a diner?"

He slaps Ignis's shoulder and it's a lot less gentle than it would've been yesterday. "One per day is your limit."


	2. Chapter 2

Despite his love for books, doing research isn't something he enjoys.

The Regalia is still out of commission but Cindy did manage to download them a copy of the data bank. Finding a server to host it on and terminals to access it is more of a challenge, but Takka reaches out to a couple of hunters that he knows and within a few days Takka's walk-in fridge looks more like a server room. 

They divide the work between them; Ignis directs them on what to look for and Prompto and Gladio search the data bank and send any relevant parts to Ignis's phone so that he can listen to it using a screen reader. They start by looking up anything and everything related to the Crystal, but even though it's the source of the power channelled by the line of Lucis, few apparently cared to find out _why_. The information they find is basic and doesn't cover more than what they were taught in the Citadel, so Ignis redirects their efforts onto different topics. They get through the ring, the Kings of Old, the Astrals, and then the tangents get wilder and harder to follow (he still doesn't understand how Ignis's mind jumped from magitek to white wolves, but that's probably why Ignis is the genius).

They survive on a combination of fries and coffee courtesy of Takka, but even with three of them searching, it takes weeks before they finally find something useful.

"Have you come across any references to something called 'the beyond'?"

Gladio frowns and leans back from the screen, taking a moment to stretch his arms and back. Something pops, loudly, and Prompto winces in sympathy. "What's the context?"

"The diary of Navitas Fortunatus. He was consort to Crepera Lucis Caelum. After her death he writes of seeing her in his dreams in a place he refers to as 'the beyond'."

Prompto rolls back his chair from behind his own terminal. "Maybe he's referring to the afterlife?" He waves one hand in the air. "Heaven or whatever."

"Perhaps, but something feels off. He describes it as a blue void. And his descriptions of Crepera match the statues of the Rogue in Insomnia but are at odds with his previous descriptions of her."

Something niggles in the back of his mind and Gladio tunes out the discussion, trying to figure out what it's trying to tell him. He closes his eyes and lets the cadence of the conversation drift over him as his thoughts wander, travelling through a kaleidoscope of colours. Sunlight, waves crashing over sand, a soft breeze brushing his face, a book casting shadow over his eyes, and a woman with red hair--

His eyes shoot open and he gets up so fast he sees spots. "Wait, that does sound familiar. I'll be right back."

He runs over to the camper and heads for his bag. One book after the other is put aside until he finds one that's well-worn and well-loved. The image on the cover has faded over time but you can still see the outline of a dark shadow with red eyes and a young, red-haired woman holding a glowing staff. He flips through the pages as he slowly walks back towards the others, searching for the folded corners that mark his favourite parts. By the time he reaches them he's found the passage he was looking for and starts to read it aloud.

"'Kaia's staff glowed defiantly in the face of the shadow persistently creeping towards her. It slowly blocked all other light until she was enveloped in it. She felt a thread of panic but the voice from the beyond whispered to her once more, urging her to to do what she was meant to do. With a defiant cry she stabbed the staff into the ground, in the spot the shadow was thickest. A vicious roar filled the air. The wind whipped at her robe and hair and the shadow reared up before her and stared at her with menacing red eyes. 'Begone, Maxim!' she cried, once more channelling her powers through the staff. The rocks beneath her cracked with the force of it. A soft, blue light emanated from below and the darkness seemed to shy away from it. Desperately she pulled out her staff and sent it through the crack with enough force to break open the ground beneath them. She closed her eyes and clung to it as she fell but after some time she realized she was no longer moving. She carefully opened her eyes and finally saw it--the Beyond.'"

Prompto is gaping at him. "Dude, I had no idea you liked that book! Did you read the rest of the series? This one was great but I think I liked the fourth one better."

A snort escapes him before he can stop it. "Figures that would be your favourite. Some people have no taste when it comes to literature." Prompto sputters in response but before Gladio can really school him on Why the World of Fantasy Needs More Kaia's (the title of his third grade book report) Ignis holds up a hand. 

"What did she mean by 'maxim'?"

Prompto fairly bounces in his chair. "Maxim is a legendary villain in the first two books! He's this immortal shadow that infects people with darkness and makes them do really horrible things like slaughter entire villages."

"It's a strange name for a villain." Ignis's brow is furrowed, his finger absently tapping the dark screen of his phone. "It's another word for proverb."

Gladio shrugs. "It's probably symbolic, like a warning to humanity or something."

"A warning...hmm. Prompto, could you please search for anything referencing apophthegm, dictum, adage or aphorism?"

Prompto rolls back towards his terminal. "Coming right up!" His fingers fly over the keyboard and he lets out a triumphant noise. "Okay, got a few hits. Let's see...no, nope, not this one either, but this might be something? It's not an exact match though."

"That's fine." Ignis's voice betrays a hint of impatience. "What does it say?"

"'The Crownsguard was unable to locate Adagium following the attack on the Citadel'. It has something to do with the Founder King Attack in 734."

Gladio is already typing before Ignis finishes asking for a search on 'adagium'. "Shit, that's a lot of hits." A quick scan of the titles reveals something else. "Most of these are classified documents."

Ignis tenses beside him. "Are they encrypted?"

He clicks one open. The cursor lazily blinks at him from the password field. "Got any idea what the password is?"

"Try your access code."

He types it in and presses enter. "Unauthorized. What about yours?"

Ignis shakes his head with a curse. "We have the same clearance level. Let me try Noct's."

"Why do you have--nevermind, I don't want to know." He guides Ignis to his seat and watches him stroke his fingers over the keys. When he types it's fast, muscle memory taking over, but the result is the same.

Gladio hesitates but then gently asks, "Is it possible you typed it wrong?" It causes Ignis's back to stiffen but he can't deny the possibility. Gladio mans the keyboard once more and Ignis rattles off the series of characters, numbers and symbols that make up the access code.

 _Unauthorized_ , says the screen. Gladio responds with colourful language of his own.

A growl breaks the silence. "Of course they wouldn't want him to read any of this." Ignis is fairly spitting with rage, and Gladio is fascinated. Unlike his name, Ignis never burns hot when angry, preferring an ice cold-calm to the burning inferno Gladio is intimately familiar with. He can feel an echo of that rage rattling around somewhere inside his own head but he pushes it to the side, reaches for Ignis's hand instead. His nails have bitten into his palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks. He tries to smooth them out with his thumb, keeping the strokes slow and gentle until some of the tension drains out of Ignis and his shoulders slump forward.

"This is probably useless, but...is it possible the Marshal has access?" Prompto looks hesitant but his suggestion perks Ignis right up.

"That's an excellent idea, Prompto. Let's see if we can reach him."

* * *

Getting to Lestallum without the Regalia is...an experience.

As his second good idea of the day, Prompto suggests they ring up Aranea again to ask for a lift. That goes about as well as hugging a coeurl. After getting chewed up and spit out ( _"Do I_ look _like a taxi service to you? The world is going to hell in a handbasket and I don't have time to play chauffeur for you_ kids _._ ") over Prompto's speakers, Ignis grabs his cane and mumbles something about going to talk to someone with sense.

When Gladio passes by the garage a half hour later with a crate of wheat for Takka on one shoulder, he sees Ignis sitting next to Cid. He can't hear what they're discussing but it looks like an intense conversation. Ignis is leaning forward and gesturing with his hands, the way he always does when he's worked up, and Cid is nodding at regular intervals. Then there's booming laughter, a clap on Ignis's shoulder, and when Ignis stands up it's with the triumphant look of someone who has accomplished exactly what he set out to do.

"Iggy," Gladio calls out when Ignis starts to walk his way. There's a small start before Ignis veers towards him. Gladio lets his feet drag over the ground as they walk towards each other and makes note of the way Ignis's trajectory changes in response. "You look like the cat that got the canary."

"I've managed to procure us some transportation. We can leave in the morning."

"No shit?" Ignis just smiles but Gladio can see the pride behind it. "What kind of car are we talking?"

"Give me your hand." Bemused, Gladio places his empty right hand in Ignis's. A chocobo keychain with a single key drops into it. "One that you can drive. Perhaps it might be a good idea to familiarize yourself with it before we head off?"

"Hold up, why am _I_ driving?"

Ignis places his right hand on his hip and cocks his head. "So you'd rather leave the driving to the person who first crashed the Regalia."

"...Okay, point taken."

"I thought you'd see it my way."

Of course, Ignis fails to mention that the car is Cid's old pickup truck, about 30 years old and as ornery as its owner.

It's a lot slower than the Regalia and they need to stop at nearly every gas station on the way to fix something. If it isn't the oil it's the water, or the tires, or the temperature of the engine. Gladio's mood worsens with every unnecessary stop but Ignis looks almost cheerful so he keeps the cursing inside his head.

They do make it to Lestallum eventually, safe and physically sound, but because of all the delays they've just missed the Marshal.

"He should be back within a week," Monica tells them. She looks like she hasn't slept in a while but also like she'd kill anyone who dared to comment on it. "Will you be staying here until then? Because I could use people with your skills."

Gladio casts a glance at Ignis and meets Prompto's eyes on the way. Prompto gives him a helpless shrug.

"I never realized eye contact was so audible," Ignis remarks dryly. "I'm sure I can handle whatever Monica needs help with."

Monica lets out a sigh and quickly shoves a folder into Gladio's hands. "Details are in there. Nothing you guys haven't seen before. Just let me know if you need any equipment."

Prompto moves to stand next to him and they quickly scan the pages, filling Ignis in as they read. With the days growing shorter and shorter the daemons are coming out to play a lot earlier and some of them are making their way into Lestallum. The entrance is an old sewer system that's no longer used but was never properly blocked off, and their mission is to clear the tunnels while another team seals the pot holes that lead into the city.

The adrenaline rushing through him loosens him up, sets him at ease. "We have a few hours till it gets dark. Let's go find a room and gear up."

The city is teeming with uniforms. Crownsguard and Kingsglaive can be found in almost every alley, and their appearance never fails to stop conversations. The sudden silences and intent stares start an itch between his shoulder blades and he finds himself picking up the pace. Ignis and Prompto follow him quietly, and when they finally land in a room at the Leville and close the door behind them he lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Ignis briefly touches his arm as he walks past.

Prompto looks like he's about to say something, so before he opens his mouth Gladio tosses one of the bags at him. He catches it with an 'oof'. "There should be some potions in there, grab those."

"We should use those sparingly," Ignis says. "If we run out..." He falls silent.

"Right." Gladio takes a deep breath. "We each carry two for emergencies only. For the rest we do it the old fashioned way. Iggy, do you still have those bandages?"

They work methodically and by nightfall they each have a carefully curated pack of supplies. Prompto heads out the door first, Ignis following close behind, but Gladio grabs his arm before he can leave.

Ignis has swapped out his cane for his lance, claiming it'll do just as well for a walking stick. He looks ready to fight, but Gladio can't help but remember how much he stumbled the last time. He keeps his voice low when he asks, "Are you sure you're up for this?"

Unseeing eyes point at the hand currently stopping him from walking through the doorway. His mouth twists into a grimace. "I want to say yes but I won't know until I try."

Gladio huffs. "Fair enough. Look, I'll do my best to stick by you, and I know Prompto will too. Just...be careful. And if we get separated, get out and come back here. We'll find you."

"Aye aye, captain," is the response, and Gladio decides it's in his best interests to not comment on the sarcastic tone.


	3. Chapter 3

It all goes to shit when the ronins show up.

He doesn't realize the situation has changed until he feels the bite of a sharp blade cutting his biceps. His shield is curled around his arm before he has finished turning around to face his opponent and he slams it into the ronin's midriff. The daemon staggers from the force of the blow but another one glides in from his right side and before he knows it he's battling three and losing ground fast.

He defends himself as best he can, eyes scanning the dark for the others. The sound of gunshots echoes through the tunnel and he pinpoints Prompto's location by the muzzle flash. Ignis is harder to find but eventually he sees twin flashes of fire, just enough light to see that Ignis is fending off two of them and a third is quietly moving towards his back.

"Ignis, behind!"

The fire turns, whirls, streaks forward and retreats again, but Ignis is all blind spots now and even though his hits seem to land the other ronins keep sliding closer.

A blow to the head breaks his focus and he stumbles, shield disappearing abruptly. He reaches for his greatsword and lets out a roar as he smashes it into the floor ahead of him. The force of it clears a path and he rushes towards where he last saw the two dimming daggers.

The light on his jacket is just enough to illuminate the scene, food for nightmares for many years to come. Ignis is pinned to the wall by a ronin's sword, daggers and lance gone. His hands are clenched around the blade and Gladio can see the blood streaming down the steel, down his clothes, down the wall, down, down, down into a sea of red. Panic is overridden by training, mind racing to perform an analysis of the situation.

Outnumbered five to one. Exit blocked. No way to get out clean.

Too much blood loss. Survival rate low without magical healing.

Limited curatives and no way to replenish them.

Ignis's strength is waning, head falling forward, hands loosening their grip.

_"I will not ask you to slow down."_

The conclusion is simple. He knows what he has to do.

He swings his sword and fights. Against the daemons, the instincts bred from training, the ruthlessness instilled in him, the kind of thinking that almost led him to abandon Ignis after the quarry. The ronin pulls out his sword to parry and he hears Ignis cry out as he crumbles. "Potion!" he yells and rolls out of the way when another ronin aims for his heart. He keeps at it, waiting for the soothing glow of an active curative, but Ignis does nothing.

With a snarl he sends a shockwave through the daemons. It gives him just enough room to get to Ignis and fish an elixir out of his pack.

"No," Ignis murmurs. Gladio ignores him and crushes the vial over the stab wound.

He reaches for the Genji blade while Ignis pushes himself upright. "Remember the trust training?" Ignis nods hesitantly. "I'm giving you a katana, okay?" Another nod, and Gladio wastes no time putting the weapon in Ignis's hands. He folds the long fingers around the hilt, squeezes, and says, "Get ready."

The wall against their back gives them a better overview but less room to manoeuvre. The glow from their flashlights combined with the fire consuming the Genji blade gives Gladio enough light to see anything dumb enough to come at them. The ronins are converging again, moving guardedly. Gladio places himself at Ignis's left and quickly describes the daemons' positions and trajectories. Ignis adjusts accordingly, sliding into a closed guard stance. "Zigzag cut, follow with downward cut and upper cut."

The fight is hectic, frantic. Instead of surging forward with his blows as he'd prefer to do, Gladio limits himself to wide sweeps that still deal a fair amount of damage. The brief openings allow him to monitor Ignis's situation and shout out new commands. "Cross and upper, downward cut!" and it's satisfying, very satisfying to see the first ronin go down under Ignis's onslaught. The defeat of one of their own is like a signal to the rest of them, and more of them ignore Gladio in favour of his partner.

A stupid mistake, but he's happy to take advantage of it.

It's a delicate balance but they manage to keep it. Gladio draws their ire every time they focus on Ignis, and Ignis listens for the instructions and returns to his starting stance in the lulls in between. The ronins fall, one after the other, and they're going to make it, despite everything, until the last remaining ronin does something unexpected and makes a dive for Gladio's throat.

The breath is choked out of him and his greatsword vanishes as his hands try to rip away the fingers crushing his windpipe. Ignis calls out his name but Gladio can't answer, can't direct, can't do anything except struggle for air that isn't coming. Black spots dance across his vision as the world starts to go grey around the edges.

The sudden gunshot makes his ears ring. He's dropped unceremoniously and spends the first few seconds desperately gasping. The ronin dissolves in front of his eyes, revealing Prompto with his gun pointed right where the daemon's head used to be. Smoke is trailing from the nozzle.

He feels fingers at his neck and he rolls his head away from Prompto's focused expression towards Ignis, who has clearly found his pulse and also a potion. He still feels a bit weak but he fends off Ignis's attempts to use it on him. "Am fine," he croaks out, wincing at how rough his voice sounds. 

"You don't sound fine," Ignis argues.

Prompto, after scanning the area to make sure they'd gotten the last of the daemons, crouches beside them and shines his flashlight straight at Gladio's face. The light is harsh and he shuts his eyes with a grunt. Fingers peel away his collar and gently touch the skin around his neck, probably tracing the line of bruises that's sure to follow. "He really is fine," Prompto says after a few moments. "Bit of bruising but no other wounds on him. Think we can skip the potion."

He wants to say "told you" but settles for rolling his eyes instead since that'll hurt less. Prompto just grins at him. "Yeah yeah big guy, whatever. How about we get you off this floor, huh?"

Gladio can only imagine the sight they make when they finally stumble out into Lestallum. It's apparently bad enough that the team of hunters waiting to seal the tunnel rushes over to help them. In the daylight (did they really spend all night in that hellhole?) Gladio can see that Prompto is sporting several gashes on his arms but otherwise seems fine. His respect for the younger man kicks up a notch.

The hunters offer them water, bandages and antiseptic and direct them to the Crownsguard headquarters for further medical attention. Prompto's and Ignis's wounds are easily dealt with, consisting mostly of scrapes and shallow gashes, but Gladio's are another matter. They argue over whether he needs medical attention; Ignis thinks that Gladio's throat needs looking at, and Gladio vehemently insists, in between bouts of severe coughing and gasping for breath, that he just needs some rest and he'll be good as new. Prompto takes Ignis's side and Gladio finds himself herded towards the designated medical tent.

The tent isn't overly crowded but the din grows quiet once they step inside. There's a palpable tension in the air, centred on the three of them, and it makes the fine hairs at the back of his neck stand upright. It takes longer than it should for a Crownsguard to detach herself from beside one of the beds to meet them halfway. "Status?" she asks brusquely.

"Abrasions around his neck causing some swelling. Possible partial blocking of the airways, he's coughing excessively whenever he ill-advisedly tries to talk."

She jerks her head towards one of the empty cots towards the back. "Take a seat over there, I'll be right back to examine you."

The meaning of "be right back" has apparently changed because it takes another hour before they see her again. Since his throat is still hurting, Gladio settles for a hard glare that she ignores. She prods the bruising around his throat the same way Ignis had in the tunnels (she's a lot less gentle about it though) and shines a small light down his throat. "The blockage is minimal. I don't foresee any complications."

Ignis's shoulders slump a bit and Gladio can see the relief written all over his face. "Can you give him something for the swelling?"

"Sorry, we don't have medication to spare for these kind of injuries. He'll have to tough it out."

Her hard tone clearly sets Ignis on edge. Gladio reaches for his arm. "It's fine," he murmurs, and Ignis remains tense but at least he doesn't try to argue anymore. Gladio turns back to the Crownsguard who never even introduced herself. "Thanks. Can I go?" She nods and he quickly gets off the cot and away from the stares verging on hostile.

Prompto offers to find them something to eat so they split up. As soon as they reach their room Gladio wastes no time before letting himself fall face-down onto his bed. He doesn't even care that his bulky bag is digging into his side. He can hear a bag unzipping, the rustling of clothes and then the quiet click of a door, followed by running water. He groans; a shower does sound amazing but does he have the energy to get up again?

Ignis doesn't take long, emerging within ten minutes. His hair is clinging to his forehead, unstyled, and Gladio finds himself staring unabashedly. He's seen this look once before, under dire circumstances; Ignis usually emerges from the bathroom dressed to the nines. It's a good look, he decides, makes him look younger somehow, more approachable. Softer, which is probably why he always wears it up.

He knows better than to ask.

"Prompto should be back soon, in case you want a shower before we eat."

Gladio sighs and makes his protesting arms push him to a sitting position. "I probably should, otherwise I'll have to go after Prompto and who knows how long that'll take." Ignis huffs a laugh but it sounds strained. "You okay?"

Ignis's back is to him, tension visible in every line. "After we talk to the Marshal and find out where Noct is, I think you should leave me here."

He digests the words slowly. "What brought this on?"

"I'm too tired to pretend, Gladio. We both know you should have left me in the tunnels. I've become a liability, and I won't let my selfishness put you and Prompto and Noct in danger any longer."

"Hold on a minute." He stifles a groan as he gets to his feet. "How come you get to decide this all on your own suddenly?"

Ignis snorts. "The last I checked, this was my life. I think I'm entitled to decide how I spend what remains of it."

"That's bullshit and you know it." A dark frown creases Ignis's forehead. "We were chosen to serve Noct. We don't just get to choose to stop."

"According to clause 43 section B of the Kingsglaive contract--"

"Who cares about the contract." The look of offense on Ignis's face shows he clearly does. "None of us stick with Noct because a piece of paper says we have to."

"That's not the point."

"What is the point then?"

"The contract is there to prevent the situation we found ourselves in today. It's not to force people into service but to force them out of it when their usefulness has run its course."

"That doesn't apply to you." Ignis opens his mouth, probably to protest, but Gladio cuts him off before he can say anything. "I know you think it does but I watched how you handled yourself today. You fought well."

"Oh, of course," Ignis bites out sarcastically. "That would explain why you needed to come to my rescue."

"Like you haven't saved my ass countless times."

"That's different and you know it!"

"I don't see how it is."

Fingers run through wet hair, leaving several clumps standing upright. Gladio smiles a little at the sight. "There's no need for this. I appreciate that you think you're helping, but you were right the first time."

"I was a dick the first time."

Ignis's lips twitch into the semblance of a smile. "One does not necessarily preclude the other."

"It does in this case. No," he forestalls the argument he can see forming, "listen. I'm not offering you empty platitudes. I respect you too much for that. But we need you to find Noct, and Noct will need you when he's back, and I--" He turns away even though he knows Ignis can't see him. "The truth is, I don't want you to leave. And I have a plan."

There's a moment of silence. Ignis still has a stubborn set to his chin, but Gladio can tell that he's curious. "Plans are usually my forte."

Impulsively he slings an arm over Ignis's shoulders. "Hate to break it to you Iggy, but your current plan is shit. Mine's much better; wanna hear it?"

Ignis inaudibly mutters something under his breath but ends with a clear, "I suppose it can't hurt to listen."

"That's the spirit." Gladio tugs him over towards the small table and settles them opposite each other. "Okay, so here's what I'm thinking. We've got some time until Cor gets here. I saw how you were fighting while I was guiding you. Your instincts are still there, they just need to adjust to your new situation. Nothing training won't fix."

His plan doesn't get rejected outright, which bodes well. "I suppose I could ask Monica to let me join a few Crownsguard training sessions."

Gladio detects a thread of something in his voice; apprehension? Distaste? He remembers the looks they've been receiving ever since they got to Lestallum and represses a shiver. "Actually, I was gonna suggest we train together."

The offer clearly surprises Ignis, and Gladio files that away as something else to feel guilty about. "I appreciate the offer, truly, but your focus should be finding Noct, not re-training someone who should have hung up his daggers months ago. There's no guarantee I'll ever adjust well enough to fight, and there's no time to waste."

"We won't know until we try." Ignis's face shows his doubt but also betrays a glimpse of hope, and Gladio chases after it. "Don't let your blasted sense of honour get in the way. We both know you don't really want to leave Noct's side."

The last barrier falls away and Gladio knows he's won even before Ignis nods his acceptance. He manages to stop himself from crowing out loud but sees no reason to stop the smug grin that's fighting to take over his face. It's apparently shocking enough that it stops Prompto in his tracks when he finally comes back, arms laden with grocery bags and bringing with him the scent of grilled meat.

"Iggy, did you give Gladio pain meds? He looks kinda...weird."

Gladio can see Ignis stifle a laugh behind his hand. "Just for that I'm taking a shower first. After dinner."

"Aww, no fair man, you had plenty of time!" Prompto whines. "I was gone for almost an hour! Did you take a nap or something?"

"Nope, just making some plans for the future." He glances at Ignis and is rewarded with a small smile. "Come on, let's eat before the food gets cold."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the longer wait for this one. In between work and a mild case of writer's block, the writing hasn't been going as well as I'd hoped. I'm going to try and post regularly but it might not be as often as once a week.

Gladio still remembers what it was like to train Noct. He gets flashbacks sometimes, usually during nightmares, of Noct half-assing his training, not listening, constantly warping everywhere just so he could slack off while Gladio stood underneath him yelling until the veins in his neck threatened to pop. He's not unsatisfied with the result but if he could do it over, he'd foist the training of the prince onto someone else.

His only other pupil was Iris who, though less inclined to slack off, came with her own set of frustrations. Stubbornness runs in the family, and Iris received more than her fair share of it. It didn't help that she was the youngest and a girl to boot. She had their father wrapped around her little finger from the moment she could walk, so any time Gladio's idea of training conflicted with hers she would run off to complain, and Gladio would be forced to do things her way.

All of this makes him apprehensive to train someone else, especially someone who already has some experience under his belt and can give Iris a run for her money when it comes to being stubborn.

But it's not the same. Not at all.

Ignis is diligent and attentive. He doesn't complain or talk back, doesn't ask why he has to do something, doesn't flop down dramatically after ten minutes of hard work. It almost makes Gladio regret telling Cor to fuck off every time the Marshal approached him to see if he'd be willing to train a new group of Crownsguard recruits. He can see now that there is joy in watching someone follow your instructions and succeed, or not succeed but get up over and over again to get it right, until their muscles are trembling with fatigue. His respect for Ignis increases every day as the man forces his body to once again learn how to fight. It only takes a week for Ignis to re-master his lance and when the tip of his weapon touches but doesn't scratch Gladio's throat during their latest sparring session, he yields with no small amount of pride.

"I think we can start you on daggers tomorrow," he says, reaching for Ignis's outstretched hand to haul himself up. Ignis smiles at him, clearly pleased with this assessment, and they carry the good mood back with them to the Leville.

It dissipates when they find Prompto running towards them. "Monica just sent word that the Marshal is back," he informs them, and they quickly make their way towards the Crownsguard headquarters.

They find Cor by a table covered in maps, in discussion with Monica who is pointing to several markers on a map of Niflheim. Some parts of the map have an 'X' drawn over it, including Gralea and Ghorovas Rift. When Monica registers their presence she nonchalantly pulls another map over the one they were perusing. 

Ignis speaks first. "Welcome back, Marshal. I trust your trip was fruitful?"

"It was. How was Hammerhead when you left?"

Gladio lets the conversation wash over him as Ignis and Prompto bring the Marshal and Monica up to speed. He crosses his arms and affects a bored pose and, when he's sure nobody is paying him any attention, he lets his eyes wander.

There is something Cor and Monica don't want them to see, and he intends to find out what.

He ignores the maps; lingering on them would draw attention. But there's a lot of paperwork scattered across the table. He lets his eyes roam over them a few times, never longer than a second, until he can piece the words together.

A list of hunters.

Areas overrun by daemons (the list is longer than he'd expect).

Supply agreements.

Search parties.

He scans that one again and finds "Gralea - no sightings" near the top. A possible match for the covered map then. 

The report is lodged between other papers with a corner sticking over the edge. He can move a bit to the right, lean against the table. A little bump should be enough to dislodge it, and in the flurry of apologies and picking pages off the floor, he can smuggle one into a pocket.

He interrupts Prompto who is describing all the places they saw signs of daemons on their way to Lestallum. "What are you looking for in Niflheim?"

Cor glances at Monica but they both stay silent.

"Gralea, Ghorovas Rift, Tenebrae." The last is just a guess, but Monica's eyes flit guiltily towards the hidden map. "You're following a trail, looking for something."

Cor clears his throat. "I'm afraid that's classified."

"We were all cleared before leaving Insomnia," Ignis reminds them. "And yet we seem to be locked out of quite an extensive section of Insomnia's data bank."

"Some files are for the royal family only, and with good reason."

Ignis's smile is all sharp edges. "Interesting you should say that, because that did occur to us as well. Is Noctis no longer considered part of the royal family? His access code seemed to have the same restrictions placed on it."

The Marshal looks uncomfortable now but quickly goes on the offensive. "Why do you have His Majesty's access code?" 

"Because the king trusts us. Will you trust his judgement?"

In the end, Cor gives in the way he does everything: with grace and dignity. Within fifteen minutes they've all been upgraded to the highest clearance level. Gladio asks again about the search and, this time, Monica answers him: "We're looking for the Crystal."

"It's not in Zegnautus Keep anymore?"

She shakes her head. "We sent someone to retrieve it as soon as your report came in, but it was gone by the time the Kingsglaive arrived. There are scouts looking for it, but..."

"But most resources are being spent looking for Noct," Ignis supplies, and Cor confirms it. "Hopefully we will be able to offer some more detailed information on where to start looking once we go through the restricted documents."

"You will keep me updated on what you find," Cor says, and it's clearly not a suggestion.

* * *

All their equipment stayed in Hammerhead but now that everyone is on the same page, Monica seems happy enough to lend them a laptop. The software they need to access the data bank comes pre-installed, and they waste no time once they get back to the hotel room. Gladio commandeers the laptop, logs in with his access code, and searches for 'adagium'. He clicks on the first document and it pops open without any further requests for verification.

"Sort them by date added," Ignis instructs. "What does the first one say?"

"It's a detailed report of the attack in 734." Gladio briefly scans the text. "According to this, the attack was orchestrated by Niflheim in order to disable the Wall amplifiers. It appeared to be carried out by Mars Sapientia, a border patrol officer, but apparently it wasn't him but someone they refer to as Adagium. He-- _shit_. He made it all the way to King Regis. They fought, and Adagium nearly killed the king. He had access to the Armiger."

"So what," Prompto stammers, "Adagium is _royalty_?"

"It would appear so." Ignis looks grim. "What stopped him from killing the king?"

"Nobody knows. When my dad found him," and Gladio has to wonder what happened to separate Clarus Amicitia from his king in the first place, "the king was unconscious and Adagium was gone. They sent out Kingsglaive to find him but it was like he disappeared into thin air."

"What's the date on the oldest document that mentions Adagium?"

Gladio checks. "April, M.E. 405. But it mentions the Founder King so Adagium must've been around a while."

"An immortal being? A Messenger gone rogue, perhaps?"

He lets his eyes scan the document until they snag upon a name, one he wasn't expecting to find in a historical account dating back 2000 years.

"Ardyn Lucis Caelum." The words taste strange in his mouth, unwieldy. The others are asking questions but he can't hear them, all of his attention consumed by the events outlined in this ancient report.

Ardyn, the brother of the Founder King, healer of the people, beloved of the Oracle, and once favoured to become the Founder King himself.

Chosen by the Crystal to lead and cure the star of its scourge.

Betrayed, bereaved, and then imprisoned on Angelgard as his brother removed all traces of him from history, except for these reports, passed down from monarch to monarch to warn them of the one they now call Adagium.

Prompto's concerned face replaces the screen in front of him and he blinks. "You okay big guy?"

"Sorry, just...digesting, I guess."

"If you could briefly summarize the rest of it, that would be appreciated." There's no rebuke in Ignis's voice, just a hint of frustration, and Gladio utters an apology before telling them what he found out.

"But what does he want? Revenge? You guys don't think he--" Prompto bites his lip. "Did he kill Noct?"

It's not like he hasn't considered it. The thought floats through his mind every so often, trailing darkness in its wake. He can usually ignore it, distracting himself with research, training, planning for Noct's return. But hearing it said out loud grants power to the suggestion, giving it room to grow until he can't avoid it any longer.

"I don't believe he is." Ignis's certainty pierces through the fog in his mind. "Ardyn took every chance he could to meddle with us, most likely to find our weaknesses so he could exploit them. But it gave me a chance to observe him as well. He enjoys inflicting emotional pain. If he had killed Noct, he would've shown us."

Prompto's face brightens. "Plus there's the prophecy, right? If Noct's the True King then he has to be alive."

"Indeed. Perhaps that is where we should focus our search for now. We can deal with Ardyn after we find Noct."

"We've looked up everything related to the prophecy already, though," Gladio points out. "There weren't any encrypted files."

"Well," Prompto muses, "the True King is chosen by the Crystal, right? Maybe we could find out how that works."

"Gladio, could you try searching for files that mention the Crystal as well as 'the beyond'?"

Gladio types in the search terms. "No results."

"And separately?"

He lets out a low whistle. "Over a million results on 'the beyond' and a few hundred thousand on the Crystal. We're gonna be here a while."

Prompto sighs and pulls the laptop towards him. "Why don't I get started on this while you guys clean up? No offense, but the room is starting to smell."

"Hey, watch it," Gladio growls, but since his shirt has been sticking to his back since they finished training (and there is an unpleasant odour hanging in the air), he doesn't argue further. He keeps his shower short and ducks out to grab dinner while Ignis takes his turn. Prompto is still bent over the laptop when he gets back and he leaves him to it.

It'll take them weeks to get through everything anyway. Plenty of research for everyone.

* * *

The power at the Leville always goes out when night falls. 

It's the same across all of Lestallum, a necessary sacrifice to keep the entire city safe from the ever-increasing number of daemons. After the sun goes down, all the power generated by the Exineris power plant is channelled to the lights erected on the city walls. They're not entirely daemon repelling (yet), but it keeps them safe from the smaller ones. For the rest, there's the Crownsguard and the Kingsglaive, always out in force during the dark hours.

No electricity means no research. It's frustrating to lose seventeen hours of potential progress each day, especially considering how slow going it is. The laptop can usually manage another hour without power, so two of them spend this time to summarize their findings of the day while the third takes care of dinner. Gladio usually volunteers; being cooped up this long is starting to mess with his head, and even training daily with Ignis isn't helping. The walk to and from the market gives him a little breathing room, a moment to clear his head. That's the excuse he gives, anyway.

It's nothing, at first. Sharp looks here and there. Muttering when he turns his back or whispering that stops when he draws near. It escalates as time passes and the daylight wanes, becomes more hostile. No worse than the typical hazing he's seen while training for the Crownsguard; trainees giving each other a shove here and there and plenty of insults to go around. It's not something he's used to in the field but he can handle it, let it slide off his back. But the tension keeps growing, and Gladio can feel that something is about to give.

If shit is about to hit the fan, he'd prefer to be the one to get sprayed.

So when his path is suddenly blocked by two hulking figures, he's not exactly surprised.

He ignores their dark frowns and gives them a friendly smile. "Can I help you?"

"You've got guts, just walking around here on your own." There are footsteps behind him and he glances back to see two more flanking him, blocking off his exit. "Shouldn't you be out there, cleaning up your mess?"

Gladio sizes them up quickly. Crownsguard, but he doesn't recognize any of them, which means they joined after he left Insomnia. They're confident but not stupid, judging by the distance they're keeping him at. No weapons, which might give him an advantage.

He shifts his feet into a defensive stance. "And what mess would that be?"

"Your only job was to protect the king," one of them snarls. "This never would've happened if you hadn't _lost_ him."

There's movement behind him and he sidesteps the blow, turning sideways so he can face all four of them. "You might wanna reconsider what you're about to do," he warns as he reaches for his shield. "I suggest you walk away, forget about me and my friends, and I'll forget to mention this to the Marshal."

The sight of the weapon clearly gives his assailants pause. They exchange glances. One of them (their leader?) finally takes a step back. "The Marshal won't always be here," is his parting remark. Gladio keeps his shield up until they're out of sight.

He remains vigilant until he's back inside their room, but nobody else feels the need to get in his face tonight. Well, except for Prompto, who complains about how long it took. Gladio rolls his eyes but leaves his explanations for after dinner.

They both look concerned when he tells them about his encounter. "I suppose that explains the general tension," Ignis says.

Prompto huffs. "It's not like it's our fault Noct disappeared! How can they just blame us?"

"It makes sense from their point of view," Gladio says with a shrug. "We're his retainers. We're supposed to keep him safe. They don't know about Ardyn and what happened in Zegnautus keep. We don't even fully understand it, and we were there."

"Are you saying you think they were _right_ to try and attack you?!"

"'Course not, but I get it. That doesn't mean I won't kick their asses if they ever try it again, but I'd rather it not come to that. The sooner we find something helpful, the sooner we can get out of here before things escalate."

"About that," Prompto glances at Ignis, "Iggy and I were talking about it and we've kind of...hit a dead end."

"'The beyond' is most likely a reference to the realm where Bahamut resides," Ignis continues. "However, we've found no direct link between that realm and the Crystal, or between Bahamut and the Crystal. There is also no mention of how one would enter this realm, and much as I am loathe to admit it, I'm not sure this information was ever known to mankind."

"So we're back to square one?"

"Not exactly," Prompto says cheerfully. "'Cause we know someone who has the inside scoop on all things Astral."

"Gentiana..."

"Bingo!"

"The real challenge will be finding her," Ignis remarks. "According to Monica, there have been some sightings, but none verified. The last one was south, near Galdin Quay."

Prompto slaps his shoulder. "We'll be camping again in no time! Aren't you glad?"

Leaving Lestallum sounds like a great plan, what with the Crownsguard apparently out for blood, but a sudden realization makes him groan. "If we're driving all the way to Galdin, we'll need a better car."


End file.
